


set my heart on fire (like gasoline)

by greyspilot



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Harrington, Cumplay, F/F, Finger Fucking, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, No actual daddy kink, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rimming, Scent Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Dynamics, Top Billy Hargrove, barb and steve friendship, billy has money, cum as lube, face fucking, for now, more tags to be added as I go probably, past Stancy, steve doesn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyspilot/pseuds/greyspilot
Summary: “Tell me, what’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”Steve’s breath caught in his throat when he looked up, because the man was gorgeous. This guy could have anyone, but he was here, looking at Steve like he wanted to swallow him whole.This guy wanted.And maybe that gave Steve a bit of a thrill, sent pure excitement shooting up his spine, the rush of it going to his head and giving him the courage to stay, turn his body a little to face him.“Lookin’ to make some bad decisions,” he said, offering a sly smile and biting the inside of his cheek to fight the blush he felt creeping up his neck. It may have been a while since he’d played this game, but he remembered the rules.“Anything I can help with?”“We’ll see how the night goes.”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Barbara "Barb" Holland
Comments: 23
Kudos: 163





	set my heart on fire (like gasoline)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlashMountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashMountain/gifts).



> hello and welcome to my Shameful Self-Indulgence kink fic. updates will probably be slow and inconsistent i'm sorry.

Steve toyed with the paper straw in his pink cocktail, a sickeningly sweet mix of cotton candy and something fruity that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And it was tasty, sure, but it was unfamiliar. Definitely not his usual drink because Nancy had always said that cocktails were too much money for not enough alcohol. “It’s bullshit,” she would say, “so not worth it”. (And well, Steve could think of one other thing she had said was  _ bullshit _ , another thing she had decided was  _ so not worth it _ , but he was here to get drunk and  _ not think about that _ , so that’s what he was gonna do.)

He downed half the drink in one go, sweet and smooth despite the bitter burn of vodka that followed. His phone gave a harsh buzz from where it sat face-down on the bar and if the sudden noise made him jump a little too high, well that was between him and the giggling bartender. 

**barbara [11:53]**

Okay but why did Tina just text me a picture of you at a bar??

He’d blame it on the sweet pink thing making his head a little fuzzy, but Steve wanted to roll his eyes. He’d wondered how long it would take for Barb to find out where he was, because she may have been his best friend, and he knew that she worried, but that  _ worry _ often showed itself in ways that make Steve feel like a bit of a disappointment. And on a normal day it wouldn’t bother him so much, on a normal day he could remind himself that Barb is just  _ like that; _ matter of fact with a tendency to get stuck on her good-girl high horse, but today wasn’t a normal day. Today he couldn’t stand to disappoint her, too.

Steve’s tongue sought out the straw blindly as he typed out a reply.

**Steven [11:55]**

bc i’m at a bar

**barbara**

Aren’t those places kind of shady? People only go to get shitfaced and hook up in the bathroom.

**Steven**

maybe I wanna get shitfaced and hook up in a bathroom?

**barbara**

I know you, Steven, and you are far too classy for a quick bathroom fuck.

**Steven**

or maybe I've just never been drunk enough. this pink thing I have is pretty good tho, might just do the trick

we'll see by the end of the night, won't we?

and don’t call me steven

**barbara**

Or maybe you just had your heartbroken?

I just don't want you to do anything stupid.

Like, for example, get drunk and call her a million times, begging her to give you another chance, only to wake up the next morning and regret it.

**Steven**

...

that happened o n e time.

**Steven [12:06]**

look

i just wanna have fun and get my mind off stuff

i'm not looking for a new relationship. i’ll be fine. please stop worrying

**barbara**

You know I'll never stop worrying, but I will leave you alone. Text me in the morning so I know you didn't drown in your own vomit xx

(And if you do get it on in the bathroom, or anywhere else, use a condom!)

**Steven**

yep and yep. love you!

Buzz now only slightly killed, Steve switched off his phone and turned his attention back to his sweet, pink thing as he people-watched.

He had to admit that, while sitting alone at the bar, it was a bit hard not to wonder what it would be like to go out there, to join the swarm of sweaty bodies on the floor, find a beautiful stranger to dance on all in the name of a good time.

He wondered, but he’d never do it.

Instead, he reached over for his drink, only pouted a little when he found it empty. Steve slid the glass away with one finger, its mere existence is an insult to him at this point, and waved down the bartender, asking: “Hey, can I get another, uh...whatever that pink thing was?”

The bartender didn’t seem to notice him, but Steve shouldn’t be surprised by that.  _ No one _ really seemed to notice him anymore, not after he rejected his parents plan for him and they cut him off, not since Nancy decided that some Insta-famous photographer was worth more than whatever she’d had with Steve.

So maybe he wasn’t  _ surprised _ that the bartender didn’t notice him, not since he lost the money and the girl everything that made him stand out, everything that’d made him  _ King Steve _ , but he was  _ annoyed _ . Serving drinks was this guy’s  _ job _ . Who’d he think he was, ignoring paying customers like that and-

Some deep red drink was placed in front of Steve.

He stared, for a moment, snapped his mouth shut. Opened it back up to say: “That’s not what I ordered.”

“From her,” is all the barman said, cocking his head in the direction of a brunette across the bar, nursing the same red drink.

Steve gave her a once over. She was cute, that was for sure, but Steve wouldn’t be going home with her.

Maybe it was the way her hair was curled, or maybe it was those innocent brown eyes shining up at him from under long lashes. Maybe it was the way her lips pursed even as she caught his eye, smiled, raised her glass, but something about this girl reminded Steve far too much of Nancy. And maybe that was the reason he  _ wanted _ to go home with her, but it was also the reason he  _ shouldn’t _ .

He paused for a moment, his mind caught on Barb’s text.  _ Or maybe you just had your heartbroken? _

She wasn't wrong, not really, but if Steve was being honest with himself, maybe she wasn't completely right, either. Of course he was upset, of course he’d thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with her, but sometimes...sometimes, Steve wondered if he  _ loved _ Nancy, or if it was just  _ easy _ .

Steve had given up a lot to be with her, to be what she wanted. He’d dropped the attitude, dropped Tommy and Carol and the title  _ king _ . When she got her job at the  _ Times _ he’d followed her to New York, said no to his father, rejected the plan and the trust fund that came with it.

All he knew was how to be Nancy’s boyfriend. What was he now?

Well, he was single, which was something he hadn’t been in a while, and tonight, he wanted to be  _ wanted _ (because that was another thing he hadn’t been in a while). He wanted to forget how worthless he felt, wanted to forget that he’d never be  _ enough _ . He wanted to take the words of self-hate that weighed heavy on his tongue and lose them in someone else’s mouth. He wanted to feel okay again, even if it was just for a night.

Steve smiled back at the girl across the bar, gave her the kind of smile that let her think he’s more interested than he really was. The smile felt more like a grimace, like it didn’t belong on his face, but her cheeks went a little pink and she tucked a curl behind her ear and suddenly it didn’t matter that he was out of practice. (Maybe there was still a little bit of that _ King  _ shit left in him after all.)

He didn’t look back, after that. The red drink sat untouched on the bar as he turned back to face the crowd.

The buzz was wearing off and, now almost sober, Steve was just about ready to prove Barb right and  _ leave _ . He didn’t belong here, and though the air was thick with smoke and blinding lights, Steve didn’t need to see every person here to know they were all out of his league.

Compared to the guys in tight jeans and girls in short skirts, Steve knew he was no one’s first choice. Probably not even a second or third. Steve didn’t think he could take the rejection if he were to put himself out there and risk letting anyone see the Nancy Wheeler shaped scar on his heart.

(He looked back. The girl was gone. Steve ignored the disappointment that slithered down his throat and settled at the pit of his stomach.)

So, yeah, Steve was ready to go. He pocketed his phone, was about to take out his wallet, drop some cash on the bar to pay for his drinks (and tip the bartender far more generously than he could afford), but then someone was sliding onto the empty seat beside him and saying: “Tell me, what’s a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat when he looked up, because the man was  _ gorgeous _ . Tan skin with freckles spattered across the bridge of his nose, blonde curls tied in a knot at the back of his head. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine with the way his leather jacket pulled tight over his biceps, chest exposed with a gold pendant sitting snug between large pecs.

This guy could have anyone, but he was here, looking at Steve like he wanted to swallow him whole.

This guy  _ wanted _ .

And maybe that gave Steve a bit of a thrill, sent pure excitement shooting up his spine, the rush of it going to his head and giving him the courage to  _ stay _ , turn his body a little to face him.

“Lookin’ to make some bad decisions,” he said, offering a sly smile and biting the inside of his cheek to fight the blush he felt creeping up his neck. It may have been a while since he’d played this game, but he remembered the rules.

“Anything I can help with?”

“We’ll see how the night goes.”

The guy barked out a laugh, head thrown back to expose the thick column of his throat. Steve watched the way his Adam’s apple moved as he laughed, got the urge to lick the beads of sweat he saw dripping down his skin.

“So, I get a name to go with that pretty face?”

Steve’s face flushed hot, his tongue flicked out to wet his dry lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to buy me a drink first?”

The smile he got in return was downright predatory, lips stretched wide, canines bared, eyes darkening as he leaned into Steve’s personal space. And Steve has never been that into biting, but there was an exception to every rule, he thought.

Blue eyes didn’t leave Steve’s face as he waved down the bartender.

“What'll it be?”

And Steve had  _ no idea _ what he had been drinking earlier, had just asked the bartender for something sweet. He turned to the bartender as he answered, hoping he looked more confident than he felt.

“That pink thing I had was pretty good.”

The man smiled, a little fondly, shook his head, ordered himself an old fashioned (and Steve hoped he was subtle when he pushed the red drink aside).

“Now,” he turned back to Steve, eyes raking over him, drinking in his messy hair, blue polo and khakis. He let his gaze linger a little on Steve’s mouth. “How about that name?”

Steve was sure he looked as warm as he felt, by this point, burning up under the heat of his gaze, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. Not when someone who looked like  _ that _ was staring at Steve like he was the only thing that mattered.

“It’s Steve,” he said, and the guy’s smile softened for just a moment.

“Steve,” it was barely a whisper, as though he was saying it only to himself, testing how the name felt on his tongue. And then that playful grin was back and Steve was squirming in his seat. “I’m Billy.”

“What do you do, Billy?” he asked.

The bartender returned with their drinks, and Steve was quick to grab his, hoping something cold would stop his skin feeling like it was on fire, hoping the liquid courage would keep his anxiety at bay.

“Good?” he nodded toward the drink in Steve’s hand, and Steve watched the way Billy’s thick fingers wrapped around the glass as he brought it to his mouth. Thought about some other things those fingers could do.

Steve nodded, noticing the way Billy eyed Steve’s lips, watching as they wrapped around the straw. He didn’t miss the way Billy swallowed. “Good.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Steve said, unable to stop his smile at the effect he seemed to be having on Billy. Because Steve wanted him, and he didn’t want Billy to stop wanting him back.

“I uh, own a publishing house down on fifth,” he said.

A breathy  _ wow _ was all Steve could say, because that caught him more than a little off guard. Billy looked barely out of college, and somehow he already had his own  _ business _ . What did Steve have, other than a broken heart and a shitty studio apartment? No goals, no dreams, no future. Just a little pink cocktail he didn’t even know the name of.

And then he heard Billy’s deep voice calling out a soft  _ hey _ , and there was a rough hand reaching for his face, tilting his head to look at him. Billy rubbed circles on the skin of Steve’s jaw with the pad of his thumb.

“You left me for a second there.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, huffed out a laugh and flashed a weak grin. “Sorry. It’s not you, I just- I think too much, sometimes.”

Because of course he had to embarrass himself. Of course he couldn’t just be normal, couldn’t just be  _ good enough _ for  _ once _ . Couldn’t be fucking _ worth it _ .

But then Billy was sliding off the barstool, crowding up into Steve’s personal space, settling in between his thighs, Steve’s knees on either side of his hips. Steve’s skin tingled where Billy’s hand found the back of his neck.

“Any of those thoughts about me?” Billy’s breath was warm against Steve’s face, the smell of whiskey and cigars and expensive cologne going straight to his dick.

Steve licked his lips, eyes dropping to Billy’s mouth. “One or two.”

Then, like it was happening in slow motion, Billy was leaning in. Steve’s heart hammered. He hadn’t had a first kiss since Nancy, but  _ fuck _ if he didn’t wanna kiss Billy. His eyes fluttered closed, Billy used his grip on Steve’s neck to pull him in closer, closer, closer. And then-

Billy was being shoved away.

Steve felt something cold and sticky drip down his chest, a red drink blooming violet all down his favourite polo.

“What the fuck, lady?” Billy yelled. Nancy’s look-alike gave a tight smile, slammed an empty glass down on the bar between them and stormed off. Billy glared after her. “Do you  _ know _ her?”

“No,  _ fuck _ , she bought me a drink and I didn’t drink it,” Steve stood, any semblance of a good mood gone, replaced with annoyance and sheer humiliation. He held the wet cotton away from his skin so it didn’t stick. “Look, I’m sorry. I gotta go clean up, I-” Steve sighed. “It was nice meeting you, Billy.”

He didn’t give Billy the chance to speak before he was making his way to the bathroom at the back of the club, desperate to salvage whatever he could of his top before it stained.

Steve closed the door behind him, thankful to be alone as he peeled off the top and held it under the faucet.

He couldn’t seem to keep his mind from wandering as he scrubbed, couldn’t stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they weren’t interrupted. Would Billy have tasted as good as he smelled? Would his lips be as soft as they looked? Would he have kept his hands on Steve’s neck or would they have started to wander, grabbed at Steve’s hips and his thighs and-

The sounds of bass and chatter filled the room as the door swung open before it promptly slammed shut, the sound of a lock quickly following.

“Hey.”

And Steve didn’t need to look to know that voice, he was sure he’d be dreaming of it for weeks, but suddenly his heart was pounding against his sternum and he could feel the blood rushing to his head and his breath was coming out in short pants.

He dropped the polo and the cheap bar soap and grabbed at the basin to keep his balance. Billy wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to  _ leave _ , because eventually they  _ all _ left. His parents left. Nancy left. They knew not to waste their time on someone who was going nowhere. And Steve was going  _ nowhere _ .

“Billy, what are you doing here?” Steve asked, because he knew better, knew guys like Billy didn’t belong with guys like Steve.

“You ran off pretty quick back there,” Billy said, moving closer slowly, slowly, like he was afraid Steve might run. And, well, he  _ might _ . He hadn’t quite decided, yet.

Steve let out a long breath.

“I was embarrassed,” he said, could feel his ears burning up and started scrubbing again just to keep his hands busy. “I didn’t think you’d wanna stick around after that.”

He heard a sigh, and then there were rough hands on his and warm breath on his neck and Billy was saying “Steve, hey,  _ stop _ .”

And he did. He couldn’t  _ not _ , when Billy was speaking in  _ that voice _ so low and soft, when he was close enough that Steve could smell his shampoo. (Coconut and lime. And Steve  _ probably _ shouldn’t  _ know _ that, but something about scents had always been grounding to him, and  _ fuck _ did Billy smell good.)

Hot palms found the bare skin of his sides. Steve found he kinda liked the way Billy was able to manhandle him, spin him around and tug him closer like it was nothing.

“I didn’t want you to  _ go _ ,” Billy said.

He’d never really felt like he was in control before, and though Billy was stronger, was the one taking charge, Steve could see the way Billy swallowed around nothing as he started at Steve’s parted lips, could feel the half-hard dick pressed against his thigh. It made him feel almost powerful.

Steve looked up through thick lashes, rocked his hips forward just enough to draw a soft groan out of Billy.

“So what  _ do _ you want?”

“I wanna finally fuckin’  _ kiss you _ .”

And who was Steve to refuse him?

(No one. Steve was  _ no one, _ but Billy wanted him anyway.)

The kiss was too much and not enough all at once, all clashing teeth and biting lips and Steve wanted  _ more _ . He grabbed at Billy’s thigh, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to bring him closer. Billy pushed as much as Steve pulled, hands splayed over his lower stomach, knee prying apart Steve’s thighs so he could press their hips together.

Steve keened into Billy’s mouth because _fuck_ \- Billy was a _really_ good kisser, and Steve hadn’t been kissed like this in a _long_ time. Already hard and grinding on Billy’s thigh like he was back in high school, he would be embarrassed if he couldn’t feel how much Billy wanted him, too.

A hand ran up Steve’s chest and Billy’s fingertips teased the dark hair at the centre. It’d been a while since he last waxed, didn’t have anyone to impress anymore, but he wanted to impress  _ Billy. _

But then Billy stopped kissing him, and Steve almost wanted to shy away, to apologise that he wasn’t  _ prepared _ and cover up the hair that Nancy always said was  _ so unattractive, Steve. Makes you look messy. _

Almost, but then Billy was dipping down, dragging the flat of his tongue through the thick patch of hair like all he wanted was to  _ taste _ . And Steve was sure he tasted like some fucking red drink and  _ sweat _ , but Billy’s eyes were fluttering closed and he was letting out the softest sounds as he marked up Steve’s chest, left sangria bruises in his wake as his lips sought out a pink nipple.

A whine slipped from Steve’s lips, high pitched and loud enough that he was sure everyone outside the bathroom could hear. He sucked in his lip to muffle the sounds, but Billy wasn’t having it as he reached up and coaxed his lip away from his teeth with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do that,” Billy said, his breath hot on Steve’s skin. He moaned again, louder this time, fuelled by the gruff edge to Billy’s voice and pure  _ want _ . “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”

And Steve couldn’t keep quiet even if he wanted to, not with the way Billy’s thumb dragged over his lip, down his chin, pressed a little into his throat. The tip of Billy’s tongue drew circles around one nipple as he pinched and rolled the other between calloused fingers.

Billy was moaning into it, humming desperate noises against Steve’s abused chest as he bit down, tugged the swollen nub between his teeth. Steve hissed at the sting, threw his head back with a whimper when Billy soothed it with a kiss. He’d always liked it when he was the one  _ giving,  _ the one taking his partner apart with his teeth and his tongue, but  _ this _ \- this was  _ new _ but this was  _ good _ , getting him hot and wet in his khakis.

And then there was a banging on the door, a call of  _ get a room! Some of us have to piss! _ and Steve was flushing a little. (Less from Billy's tongue and more from the fact that he had a guy sucking on his tits in the bathroom of a bar, the fact that he was acting like a fucking  _ whore _ , the fact that he _ fucking liked it _ .)

He spared a glance down and-

Billy was  _ staring _ , looking right up at Steve and looking like something out of a wet dream. His lips were red and swollen and his blue eyes were a little dark and his breath was a little harsh and  _ fuck _ .

Steve wanted to  _ touch _ .

He grabbed at Billy’s face, pulled him in for a kiss that was sloppy and hungry. Billy’s hands were everywhere, tangling in Steve’s hair, palming at his chest and his neck and back and dangerously high up his thighs. His hands were hot on Steve’s skin, a little clammy, like he was just as desperate for this as Steve was.

“Wanna take this back to my place?” Steve breathed into the kiss.

Billy shook his head.

“They can wait,” he said, nodding toward the locked bathroom door. He worked at the button on Steve’s pants, slipped his hand past the elastic of his briefs to wrap his fingers around the base of Steve’s thick cock. “This one of those  _ bad decisions _ you were talking about?”

Steve’s head rolled back, a needy sound tearing from his throat. “The  _ worst _ .”

Billy’s mouth stretched into a wicked grin, tongue wagging like a satisfied dog. It was sleazy and gross and so,  _ so _ fucking hot, got Steve thinking about other things that tongue could do. And then Billy was spitting into his palm, jerking Steve hard and fast, desperate to get him off, and all Steve could think was the heat of Billy’s palm, the rough slide of his fingers.

And this probably  _ was _ one of the worst decisions Steve had ever made, because this bathroom looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a month, and he had got a stranger’s hand around his cock all slick with saliva and pre but  _ fuck _ . He hadn’t felt this good in  _ months _ . So, yeah, maybe it wasn’t his  _ best _ idea, but no one had ever used the word  _ smart _ to describe Steve Harrington.

“You look good like this,  _ shit _ ,” Billy said, pressing the pad of his thumb to a sensitive vein and dragging it up from base to tip. Steve’s dick pulsed, angry and red and leaking in Billy’s hand. “So fuckin’  _ pretty _ .”

And  _ pretty _ wasn’t something Steve was used to hearing either, but the word sounded so nice, so fond and weak in Billy’s mouth. He wanted to hear it again.  _ Pretty _ . He wanted to be pretty for Billy.

“Fuck, look at you,” and Billy  _ was _ ; was practically drooling as he eyed Steve’s usually pale skin, now all flushed and marked up. “Gettin’ all  _ wet _ for me.”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to last. He could feel the heat curling in the pit of his stomach, hips pressed back to the basin to keep from fucking into the hand around him, but he wanted to get his hands on Billy, too.

He could see how hard Billy was beneath blue denim, and it’s not like Steve’s never seen a guy with an erection before (he had sometimes let his gaze linger a little too long when he watched porn, thought about how it’d feel as he fucked into his fist) but he’d never  _ touched _ . Never  _ wanted _ to touch quite in the way he wanted to touch Billy.

Steve reached for him but Billy caught his wrist, gave a little  _ tut-tut _ of disapproval despite the devious smirk on his face.

“Uh-uh,” he said, stilled his movements, tightened his grip just enough to keep Steve on edge. “You gonna be good for me, pretty boy?”

_ Good _ . Another one of those words that weren’t meant for Steve Harrington. He had never really been good at much, not back when he was captain of the basketball team and not now (even though he’d been working at the same damn coffee shop for two years. You’d think he’d at least be good at that.) but he wanted to be good at  _ this _ . Wanted to be good for  _ Billy _ , wanted to be memorable if this was the last time. The  _ only _ time.

He nodded, whimpered, leaned in for a kiss that Billy expertly dodged.

“Use your words, baby,” Billy ordered. “Tell me what you want.”

And Steve had always thought he’d be above begging.

But he’s been wrong before.

“Yeah,  _ fuck _ , yeah I wanna be good.  _ Please _ Billy, I wanna-  _ ah _ , wanna touch you,  _ please _ ! I’ll be so good for you just- just let me  _ touch you _ .”

Billy hissed out a small  _ fuck _ , used one hand to undo the button of his jeans, push them down on thick thighs to free his aching cock. Billy wasn’t quite as long as he was, but he was thick and leaking at the tip.

And then Billy was sweeping in to steal a kiss as he gripped at Steve’s hips, pulling him forward and rutting. He spit into his hand, took them both in his palm and rocked his hips against Steve. It was still a little dry, he could feel the burn of his cock hot against his own, nothing like the slick, wet heat he’s so used to. Almost  _ better _ .

“Doin’ so good, Stevie. Look so  _ fuckin’ good _ . Gonna put that pretty mouth to work, yeah?” 

Billy slipped two fingers between Steve’s lips, told him  _ suck _ and-

_ Yeah _ .

This was better.

Steve’s could taste the smoky remnants of a cigar on Billy’s fingers. His mouth fucking watered as his tongue worked around the digits, moaned against them when Billy pressed them deeper, testing how much Steve could take.

(Not a lot. Not yet.)

“You gonna come, baby?” Billy’s voice was strained, like he was trying to satisfy some insatiable hunger. “ _ God _ , I bet you look  _ real pretty _ when you come. You gonna show me? Gonna show me how pretty you look when you come for me?”

All he could do was nod around the fingers that muffled his moans as he bucked into Billy’s fist, harsh and frantic and desperate. Billy flashed a sharp smile, licked his lips, waved his tongue in a way that had Steve thinking about things he’d never considered before.

It was all a little too much; the hint of tobacco on Billy’s fingers, the smell of whiskey on his breath and expensive cologne diluted by the sweat on his neck, the slide of Billy against him and the friction of his palm all slick with spit and come.

And then his toes were curling and he was arching into Billy, crying out his name. Billy pulled his fingers from Steve’s mouth, slipped his hand between them to catch his release.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Steve sighed through labored breaths. “That was-”

He didn’t quite have the words to describe exactly  _ what _ that was. That kind of pleasure, the heat and desire that pooled deep in his gut, he’d never felt that with Nancy. Never felt that with any of the girls he’d fooled around with before her, either. Billy was something else, made Steve feel like he could  _ be _ something else.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby,” Billy said as he stroked himself all slow and teasing, not enough to get himself off but enough to keep him hard. “Wanna fuck you. Can I?”

People were starting to bang on the bathroom door.

Steve stood there, gaping like a fish out of water trying to find the words (because Billy made him feel pretty, made him feel wanted, made him feel so fucking  _ good,  _ but none of that felt like _ enough _ ) but Billy wasn’t bothered as he licked a hot stripe of Steve’s come off his finger like it was cake batter.

His heart thudded, felt like he was gonna vibrate out of his skin from the way Billy made him tingle all over. Steve wanted him like he’d never wanted anyone, like he never thought he  _ could _ want anyone. He wanted Billy in any way he could have him.

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing down all the fear and the nervousness and the self-doubt that left such a sour taste in his mouth. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me.”

The words felt foreign in his mouth, an unfamiliar twist on his usual  _ I wanna fuck you _ . It was tantalizing and terrifying all at once, the newness of it all.

Billy’s smile was like the devil, beautiful and alluring with a look in his eye that threatened him to run. He stood his ground, fisted at Billy’s white top and tugged him down into a kiss.

Calloused fingertips trailed down the slope of Steve’s spine to the curve of his ass, the flat of his palm hot against the exposed skin of his cheek. Billy gave a light squeeze as Steve slipped his hands under the hem of Billy’s top, running them over his abs and feeling the muscles contract at the touch. He was burning hot, like his blood was on fire, and he was breathing the softest sounds into Steve’s mouth and Steve was  _ ready _ for Billy when he realised-

“Fuck,” Steve said, voice frenzied and pupils dilated and face  _ red _ as he looked up at Billy. “I don’t- I didn’t actually bring, uh,  _ stuff _ .”

Billy cocked a brow. His lips twitched in amusement.

“ _ Stuff _ ?” He repeated, teasing, like it was a challenge. “Lube? Condoms?”

Steve suddenly felt a little like a child and  _ far _ more inexperienced than he was _. _ Though if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t  _ really _ expected to hook up with anyone tonight. He thought that, even if anyone had been interested, he would’ve chickened out long before it got to this point. So. No. He didn’t bring lube, didn’t even bother replacing the long-empty box of condoms in his bedside drawer.

“Yeah.”

Billy huffed a laugh, whiskey breath hitting Steve’s face. It made him feel a little dizzy, made his dick kick.

“You mean to tell me you came  _ here _ , and you weren’t thinking of fucking anyone tonight?”

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t think anyone would wanna fuck  _ me _ .”

Something like wonder settled on Billy’s features as he looked Steve dead in the eye, sucked in a sharp breath and said: “You really don’t know how gorgeous you are, do you, pretty boy?”

And Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything because Billy was kissing him again, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket for  _ stuff _ . It was all becoming real, Steve itched with excitement.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Billy said. “Stick with me and I’ll show you, every fucking day. Now, be a good boy and turn around. Grab onto the sink for me.”

Steve did as Billy said, turning away from him and bracing himself on white porcelain. He heard the cap of the lube pop open as a finger, still sticky with Steve’s come, slipped between his cheeks, ran through the thick hair and circled his already twitching hole.

“Shit, Stevie,” Billy keened, pressed his thumb to the rim experimentally. A whimper slipped past Steve’s lips. “Even your fuckin’ asshole is pretty. You’re gonna feel so good. Gonna fuck you  _ so good _ .”

And Steve moaned a little louder then, as Billy grabbed a handful of Steve’s ass and spread his cheeks to drop a cold glob of lube between them.

“But we gotta be quick, yeah?” he continued, catching some of the liquid with his index finger and pushing it into Steve right up to the first knuckle.

Steve nodded, shifted a little as he adjusted to the feeling. There was a little bit of a sting, but he didn’t mind that. It felt strange more than anything. Different.

Billy started to push in further and Steve felt himself open up to allow for Billy’s thick fingers. A cold flush came over him as the haze of alcohol and lust cleared enough for him to realise what he was about to do.

“Just-” he said, looking up at Billy’s reflection in the mirror before them. He swallowed. “Just be gentle, please?”

Billy’s eyes softened and he tucked the lube into the pocket of his jeans. His free hand came to rest on the small of Steve’s back.

“Steve,” Billy started, blunt nails scratching at pale skin as he pressed deeper into Steve. “Have you ever been with a guy?”

Steve licked his lips. He could lie, but he was sure it’d be obvious pretty fuckin’ soon. Besides, they’d already gotten this far. Surely Billy wouldn’t back out  _ now _ .

He shook his head no.

“Fuck,” he hissed, more to himself than Steve. Disappointment laced the word and Steve hung his head, mentally prepared himself for the rejection that was about to come. “If you’d have  _ told me _ that, I would’ve at least brought you back to my place. I wouldn’t be fucking you in a sketchy fuckin’ bathroom.”

And something about that made Steve feel a little warm, made his heart flutter in a way that he pointedly ignored.

“But, you’re still gonna fuck me, right?” he asked, eyes meeting Billy’s through the mirror and pushing his hips back to fuck himself on the finger that was moving a little easier now.

Billy gave a shark-like smile, eyes clouding over with lust. That look alone was enough to make Steve’s dick chub.

“Yeah, baby, I’m still gonna fuck you. Gonna make it real good for you. We gotta hurry up though,” he said, one hand coming to wrap around Steve, stroking him just enough to distract from the sting of a second finger. “But next time,  _ fuck  _ pretty boy. Next time, I’m gonna fuck you  _ slow _ . Gonna take my time, open you up on my tongue, get you so hard and wet you’re gonna beg me for more. Wanna fuck you until you’re desperate for it, gonna make you come with just my cock. Think you could do that?”

His response came in the form of an incoherent cry as his body jerked, torn between bucking into Billy’s fist or leaning into the fingers that were spreading him open. It was all so new, the deep voice in his ear, the friction of Billy’s fingers around him and the fingers that were fucking him open, getting him all slick and wet and  _ ready _ .

He could hear muffled shouts from the other side of the door, restless patrons who had given them time but were growing impatient. He figured the constant pounding on the door should be a bit of a mood killer, but he felt himself getting hard at the way Billy didn’t  _ care _ , the thought of someone walking in while Billy fucked him and the knowledge that Billy wouldn’t  _ stop _ , would probably just grab his hips and fuck him harder.

_ Fuck _ . He was ready.

“ _ Billy _ ,” Steve’s voice was pleading, and as he looked up to find blue eyes in the reflection, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fucked out he looked. His hair was a mess, lips bruised and swollen. Billy was behind him, working him open while still fully clothed, a stark contrast to Steve who was flushed red and covered in sweat, khakis bunched down at his thighs, cock angry and leaking against his stomach.

Billy let out a  _ tsk _ sound. “What’d I say about using your words?”

“ _ Please _ , Billy. I want you to  _ fuck me, _ I’m-  _ fuck _ , I’m ready,  _ please _ .”

He wasn’t ready for how fucking  _ empty  _ he would feel when Billy pulled his fingers out, could feel himself clench around nothing as his body chased that feeling. He watched Billy pull out the lube, pour a liberal amount directly onto his thick cock and wrap a hand around himself, stroking a couple of times until he was slick and wet.

One hand gripped at Steve’s hip, the other lining himself up, the tip pressed against Steve’s puckering hole.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said, then buried himself in Steve with little resistance.

Steve whined at the stretch, the sting of Billy’s cock splitting him open was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Billy’s hand kept working around Steve, bringing him to full hardness as he let him adjust to the feeling of Billy inside him.

He could already feel his orgasm building, desire curling deep in his stomach from the smell of sweat and cigars, the feeling of a hand other than his own jerking him off with ease only another guy could have.

Sweat was starting to drip into his lashes so Steve threw his head back, pushed his ass onto Billy and urging him to just fucking  _ do something _ .

Billy’s movements were careful as he pulled out just enough to thrust back in. And Steve was sure it could feel _ good _ , had fucked Nancy all slow and sweet enough times to know that  _ careful _ could mean  _ deep _ , that  _ gentle _ could mean  _ teasing _ . But Billy was  _ hesitant _ .

Steve rolled his hips, found Billy’s heavy gaze and held it as he pressed back into him, fucked himself on Billy’s dick. It was far from perfect, he didn’t have the experience (or even the leverage) to properly ride him like he fucking  _ wanted _ to, but his shallow thrusts were enough to have pre slicking up Billy’s hand, enough to have him panting and Billy huffing short breaths as he held steady and let Steve work.

“Come on, Bill,” Steve said, _using his words_ even though his voice was raw and deep and he was struggling for breath. “ _Fuck_ _me_.”

Billy let out a breathy laugh, the hand on Steve’s hip tightened and pulled him closer.

“Thought you wanted me to be  _ gentle _ ?”

“And I thought  _ you _ wanted to help me make bad decisions?”

That seemed to be enough to push Billy over the edge as he let out a fervent groan, his hand flying out to tangle itself in Steve’s dark hair and  _ tug _ before he pulled out, almost to the tip, and slammed back in ‘til he was balls-deep.

He set a relentless pace, using his grip on Steve’s hair to hold him still, make Steve  _ watch _ as Billy fucked into him. The hand around Steve loosened just enough to tease him. He jolted forward with every one of Billy’s thrusts. It was overwhelming, the friction of the hand around him, the burn of his hair pulling at his scalp, the look of hunger in Billy’s blue eyes.

“Like this, baby? This how you wanted it, huh?”

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Steve managed through a steady stream of moans, mouth forming a sinful  _ o _ . He wasn’t sure he had many words left, wasn’t sure he was able to even  _ think _ about anything other than the slide of Billy’s cock and the fist in his hair. Maybe it was a little demeaning, maybe not something he should  _ admit _ , but it felt  _ good _ to be used like this. Felt good that Billy  _ wanted _ to use him.  _ Billy _ wanted  _ him _ .

“God, you feel so  _ good _ . Knew you would. So fuckin’ hot and  _ tight _ , ‘m gonna come soon. Fuck Stevie. Think you can come again for me, princess?”

_ Princess _ . Something about the word sent arousal shooting straight through him. Something about the  _ way _ Billy said it, so fond and awestruck, made his cock jump.

Still, Steve shook his head. He wanted to. He was so fucking hard and Billy felt  _ so fucking good _ , but he’d never been able to come more than once. He didn’t think he could. Then again, if anyone was gonna  _ make him _ . Well.

“Nah, I think you  _ can. _ Think you can do it for me, just  _ one _ more time. Please, baby? Come for me. I’m not gonna come until you come on my dick. Don’t you want me to come, princess? Don’t you wanna be  _ good _ for me?”

His thrusts were getting shallow and rushed, his fist closed around Steve, started jerkin’ him like he was desperate for it. And he fucking must’ve been, because he closed his eyes tight and the hand left Steve’s hair, finding purchase on his ass and squeezing, spreading his cheeks as though he was gonna get any fuckin’ deeper.

And then Steve’s whole body was shuddering, weak and oversensitive and  _ shaking _ as he shot ropes of come all over his stomach and chest, some of it dripping down Billy’s hand.

Billy came with a cry of Steve’s name, fucking into him as he milked his orgasm. Steve could just feel him filling up the condom, found himself wishing Billy was filling  _ him _ up instead, found himself wanting to be fuckin’ full of it, to keep it inside him as a reminder that this really happened. A reminder that just for a while, he belonged to Billy and Billy belonged to  _ him. _

He pulled out far too soon, left Steve whimpering at the loss and now far too aware of the angry mob that seemed to have formed outside the bathroom.

Steve watched as Billy pulled off the condom, tied it and threw it into the trashcan before tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping them. And suddenly Billy looked  _ normal _ again, the askew bun on his head the only giveaway that anything had ever happened in here.

This is the moment Billy leaves. He wasn’t stupid, Steve knew how shit like this went. So he stood, swallowed his pride and his disappointment and whatever else he felt but refused to put a name to and he pulled up his pants, ran a hand through his hair to straighten it out as best as possible. (It wasn’t possible, he  _ knew _ Billy’s hand had been there, even if no one else could tell.)

But Billy was still here, staring at him expectantly.

“How’s your top?” he asked.

And honestly? Steve had forgotten all about it.

He reached into the sink and pulled it out, the purple stain on the front somehow larger than it’d been before.

“Ruined,” he said with a sigh and defeatedly tossed it in the trash.

Billy shrugged off his leather jacket. Steve tried not to stare too long at his arms, but he could see the faint outline of a tattoo beneath the white cotton.

“Here,” Billy held out the jacket for Steve to take. When he didn’t immediately, Billy took a step forward, pressed himself into Steve’s personal space, ducked in to lick a hot stripe, lap up the come in the hair of his chest, before pressing the leather into his skin. “Put it on, it’s cold out there. I’ll get us an Uber.”

He said it with a kind of finality that Steve didn’t even bother to argue. Didn’t let himself dwell on that tingly feeling he got, either. He just let Billy take the lead - let him lead Steve outside and into the Uber, let him initiate the kisses they shared from the comfort of the backseat. He would happily take anything Billy gave him, didn’t wanna fuck it up by asking for too much.

And as much as he wanted it, Billy didn’t fuck him a second time that night, said  _ not yet, baby. You’ll be sore tomorrow, okay? You’ll thank me later _ . (Though they did jerk each other off in the shower, so Steve thought that almost made up for it.)

That night, Steve fell asleep in a penthouse apartment in downtown New York, in the arms of someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a  _ stranger _ . And that night, for the first time in a  _ long _ time, Steve slept peacefully.

But he woke up alone the next morning, was only disoriented for a second before he remembered the fuckin’ fever dream that was the night before. And really, he wasn’t even  _ surprised _ . Of course Billy was the kind of guy to leave Steve  _ alone _ at  _ Billy’s _ place.

Rolling onto his side, he reached out for the phone he remembered leaving on the bedside table before Billy had lured him into his arms with the promise of kisses and, if he was  _ good _ , maybe a little something  _ else _ . (But Steve had been too tired and far too spent to be  _ good _ , so he’d settled for cuddling into Billy’s side, laying his head on his chest and passing the fuck out.)

Steve checked the time, almost one, and sat up in bed with a small frown. There was something else on that table that hadn’t been there last night. A note, explaining that Billy had gone to the office and  _ call me, pretty boy _ , and a black paper bag that read  _ Ralph Lauren _ .

His heart hammered in his chest, a lump of nerves stuck in his throat as he opened it, only to find a brand new blue polo.


End file.
